


I'll Make It Up to You

by halik



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Established Relationship, Haikyuu Angst Week 2020, Insecurity, M/M, Miya Atsumu-centric, Post-Time Skip, atsumu and kiyoomi fighting over what pet to get, mentions of suna rintarou - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27435436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halik/pseuds/halik
Summary: “Here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed.Crossed out.”-Richard Siken, Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Outin which sakusa quits pro volleyball and leaves atsumu confused and distressed.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 71
Collections: Haikyuu Angst Week 2020





	I'll Make It Up to You

**Author's Note:**

> late post for hq angst week day 2: insecurity and "was i ever enough?"

It’s been six months since the Tokyo Olympics. Today, the Black Jackals are on fire. Atsumu tosses the ball to Bokuto, and the outside hitter manages to score the winning point for the team. Atsumu is thrilled and proceeds to jump in excitement when the scoreboard finally hit 15. On instinct, his eyes search for Kiyoomi, searching for the twinkling and excitement in his eyes which only Atsumu can recognize, but he finds none of them. Instead, he is met with emptiness. Atsumu is puzzled but is not surprised, as this was the same look Omi had when they won their previous matches. He never brought it up, but now he decides to wait until it’s just the two of them alone before asking about it as it’s been bothering him for weeks.

“Omi-kun? You okay?” Atsumu asks Kiyoomi when they arrive at their apartment. Atsumu makes sure to place his shoes inside the shoe cabinet and disinfect his whole being before going inside due to habit, just like Kiyoomi taught him to. 

“I’ve just been thinking…” A long pause. Atsumu feels like he’s sitting on the edge of his seat even though he is just standing by the entrance to the living room. He’s scared of what Kiyoomi is about to say. He doesn’t know what to expect, either. In truth, Atsumu is cautious of change. Sure, he loves doing new tricks when he plays volleyball, but when it comes to his personal life and relationships, it’s a different story. He tunes out his own thoughts and proceeds to lean on the wall and stare at Kiyoomi who’s hunched over by the couch. “I think I want to quit. As a pro.”

He certainly did not expect _that_ . Atsumu grips his stomach and tastes the bitter bile creeping up his throat. He then takes a few shaky, shallow breaths. _This can’t be happening...again._ The last and only time this happened, he almost punched the guy. He tries to breathe evenly and seats himself a few inches beside Kiyoomi, taking care not to touch him, since Atsumu is scared that Kiyoomi will think he’s overreacting because he’s trying his best not to hyperventilate. 

Atsumu thinks back on his childhood, when he first started falling in love with volleyball, and how his peers rejected him for being too much of a perfectionist. _Is he sick of my tosses?_ Atsumu thinks back to high school, to his brother, Osamu, and how he developed a fear of abandonment after Osamu decided to quit volleyball. Just like his Omi. _Will he leave me, too?_ Atsumu thinks back to when he confessed to Suna after graduation, was rejected, and lost a friend. _Is he sick of me?_ Atsumu is snapped back to reality when Kiyoomi gently touches his face. 

“It’s just a sport, Tsum. I’m still here,” Kiyoomi asserts, while pressing a kiss on Atsumu’s forehead. 

Atsumu does not agree, but he has no energy to argue. “Yeah, just a sport.” He goes into Kiyoomi’s arms and they stay there for a while, comfortable in each other’s silence. Kiyoomi starts stroking his hair and Atsumu falls asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Later that night, when Atsumu is lying beside Kiyoomi in their bed, Atsumu thinks of what he said earlier. 

_‘Just a sport.’_ _Just a sport? Who am I, if not a volleyball player?_

_I thought we shared the same passion._

_I thought we were in this together?_

He continues to overthink into the night until he falls asleep. 

* * *

The next day, Atsumu and Kiyoomi didn’t get to continue last night’s conversation since they had early morning training. They have two final matches for the season, and Atsumu is excited to win them all. However, the thought of not having Kiyoomi by his side in the future ruins his pleasant mood. 

“Miya! What’s up with those tosses?” Meian inquires at him across the court, glaring at the setter. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, Tsum-Tsum, you don’t seem like your usual self today. You good?” Bokuto walks over to Atsumu and hands him a towel.

Atsumu sees Kiyoomi in his peripheral, trying to stay out of the conversation. This just confirms that Omi still hasn’t talked with their captain about it. Atsumu shoots Meian with an apologetic smile. “I’m okay, I think I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Sorry, I’ll do better.”

“You better!” Inunaki pipes at him from the other side of the court.

“Tsum. Let’s talk about this later, yeah?” Atsumu is surprised to find Kiyoomi by his side that he nearly drops his towel. 

“Yeah, okay. Sorry, Omi.” 

Training goes by without fail, though Atsumu has a hard time tossing to Kiyoomi. The others notice this as well but say nothing about it. The last time Bokuto asked, chaos somewhat ensued—they were ready to have a screaming match right there at the court. Good thing Meian and the coach were there to stop it. The funny thing was, Atsumu and Kiyoomi were arguing about whether to adopt a dog or a cat. Of course, Atsumu was in favor of the cat, while Kiyoomi argued that dogs were more hygienic than the former. Though in the end, they settled on a plant instead.

It’s not usual for Atsumu to dread being left alone with Kiyoomi. He’s fearing that his negative thoughts would come back to haunt him, and that he’d say things he won’t mean. His therapist used to say that it’s always practical to talk it out like civil adults when something about your friend or partner bothers you, but to be honest, he just wants to forget everything, curl in bed, and cry himself to sleep.

Kiyoomi takes him to their favorite sushi restaurant. He was actually the one who found this hole-in-the-wall near training grounds. For their first date, Atsumu left the job of finding the restaurant to Kiyoomi, while Atsumu was in-charge of the post-dinner activities. They even made a friend of the owner and come back about twice a month. 

“Omi, are you trying to influence my feelings with fatty tuna?” Atsumu jokes, “because it’s not working.” Atsumu playfully sticks a tongue at him before entering the place. Kiyoomi just chuckles to himself and follows Atsumu inside.

Once they receive their orders, Kiyoomi brings it up first. “Tsum, I know this is all too familiar for you,” he pauses and looks up at Atsumu from his plate, not missing the sour expression on his face, “but I want to explain myself. I just think that I’ve done everything I wanted, and now I want to try something new.”

Atsumu does not offer a response. He just continues to look at Kiyoomi, waiting for him to finish. _What does he mean, done everything he wanted? There are so many things left undone—so many things to look forward to—so many new tricks to learn—huh?_ Atsumu’s thoughts are interrupted when Kiyoomi speaks again.

“I know what you’re thinking. But try to understand, please?” Atsumu tries, but fails. He can’t stop thinking about how this could be the start of the end for them—Kiyoomi falls out of love for the game, then eventually falls out of love with Atsumu. _Because really, what else is there to us except for volleyball, Kiyoomi?_

Atsumu suddenly loses his appetite and wants to scream. “Sorry, Omi. I just,” he tries to think of the right thing to say—anything but that last presumption. “I’m honestly still confused how you came about this decision. Like, since when? I’ve noticed how you were after our recent matches, but I thought it was just a phase. I didn’t think you’d actually quit. I didn’t think you’d actually leave me.” His last sentence was barely a whisper but it’s clear in Kiyoomi’s face that he was able to hear him. 

“Leave you? Baby, no. I’m still with you right now, what are you even talking about? Atsumu, I am not your brother. I’m not Osamu. Stop overthinking this. Please?” Kiyoomi pleads with his eyes, takes one of Atsumu’s hands across the table and folds it over his own.

Kiyoomi knows him so well, it’s endearing, but he certainly can’t imagine Kiyoomi not being a professional player anymore. “Fine. What do you even plan on doing after finishing the season?”

Kiyoomi smiles to himself like he has his own little secret. “I want to write poetry. Become a writer, you know? I want to put my Communications degree to good use. I’m terrified, but I know I’ll be happy because you’ll still be with me through it all.” 

Atsumu still feels conflicted, but it’s obvious that Kiyoomi truly wants this, and that he’s genuinely happy with his decision. He drowns the ugly thoughts out and concludes to reflect on his emotions later at home. For now, he chooses to trust Kiyoomi and see how it goes. “Poetry, huh? Okay. As long as you’re happy, Omi.” 

At that, Kiyoomi takes Atsumu’s hand to his lips and places a soft kiss on it. “Thank you for understanding, Tsum. I love you. So much.”

Atsumu smiles for the first time that day. _Maybe we can make this work._ “And I, you, Omi! You’re buying me ice cream after this, by the way. I deserve a treat. And kisses. Lots of kisses.”

“Of course. You deserve everything.” 

That night, and the nights after, Atsumu sleeps with a heavy heart, dreading the day Kiyoomi retires.

* * *

The season has just ended, and everyone is ecstatic about the Black Jackals being the overall champion. Except for one Miya Atsumu. They just arrived at the after party and he feels like throwing up. Today was the last day he and Kiyoomi stood on the court together. Tomorrow, he retires.

Atsumu excuses himself from Kiyoomi and walks over to his brother who’s enjoying himself by the bar. “Hey, Samu.”

Osamu gives him a pat on the back and says his congratulations. “So, how are you holding up?” 

Atsumu takes a seat beside him and lets out a sigh. “Not good. Anytime soon I really might hurl out my dinner.” 

“You’re disgusting. You know that, right?” Osamu rolls his eyes and laughs. “But really. If you need someone to talk to, or a shoulder to cry on, you know I’m just a call away.”

“Thanks, Samu. Right now, I’m just going with the flow, I guess. Omi appears to be happy with his decision, so I respect that. But I just can’t help feeling scared.” 

“That’s understandable. And you also have a few special matches coming up overseas, right? How will that work between you two?”

Atsumu forgot about that until Osamu brought it up. He and Kiyoomi haven’t really talked about it, if Kiyoomi will be flying with him or if he’ll just stay in Osaka. “I don’t even know. Please stop pressuring me. We’ll figure it out. I think.”

Osamu shakes his head and offers him a glass. “Drink up, enjoy the night, and go back to your boyfriend. He seems like he’s having the night of his life.” Atsumu follows Osamu’s gaze and sees Kiyoomi looking uneasy around the sea of people trying to congratulate him. “Just a call away,” Osamu reminds him as Atsumu heads back to save Kiyoomi from the crowd.

* * *

Atsumu’s plays are quite average today. They’re in Tokyo playing against the Green Rockets, but he can’t stop thinking about Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi, whose first ever book was getting published today, and his first ever book-signing event was happening now, back in Osaka. He feels guilty about not being there to support him, but Kiyoomi reassures him that it was fine.

“I can’t believe I’m missing your first book-signing event, Omi!” Atsumu says through the phone the previous night, the frustration evident in his voice.

“It’s fine, Tsum,” Kiyoomi replies. Atsumu could hear him typing on his laptop. “I’ll be fine. I’ll make sure to send you photos, so go win that game tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Omi. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“I know. I love you.”

* * *

Atsumu has another game, and this time, it’s in Sendai. Atsumu is expecting to see Kiyoomi by the bleachers, and when he looks over, his face falls. No sign of Kiyoomi. _Guess he must be too busy._

When he arrives home, Atsumu finds Kiyoomi typing comfortably on his laptop at the dining table. “Omi, hey. I thought you’d be watching my game today?”

Kiyoomi looks up and offers a wave. “Oh, sorry Tsum. My meeting with my publisher went longer than expected. Promise I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“‘Kay. Love you.” Atsumu tries his best not to sound too upset about it. He offers Kiyoomi a smile, but the latter has already looked away from him. 

* * *

“Hey, Omi. We’re playing the Adlers tomorrow. Are you gonna watch?”

“Sorry, Tsum. I have a deadline to meet. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

* * *

“Tsum, my second book is getting published tomorrow. Will you attend the event with me?”

“That’s tomorrow? Shit Omi, you know we got that match with the Red Falcons tomorrow.”

“Right. Next time, then.”

* * *

“Omi-omi?”

“Tsum, hey. Let’s talk tomorrow, yeah? I had to sign a lot of books today so I’m really tired.”

“Ah. Of course. Sure, goodnight.”

* * *

The loneliness is eating Atsumu up. Kiyoomi skips on most of Atsumu’s games, and when Atsumu is home, Kiyoomi is either too busy writing or finishing up meetings with people he doesn’t know. He knew it would eventually come to this. He should have persuaded Kiyoomi harder, to not quit volleyball. Atsumu’s biggest regret. But really, how was he going to change Kiyoomi’s mind when it was already decided long before they even talked about it? 

Once he arrives home, he finds Kiyoomi sitting on the couch, fiddling with his phone. Anger starts curling in his gut, and Atsumu goes straight up to him, not bothering to remove his shoes and disinfect.

“Omi, seriously, are you ever going to have time to watch my games? Recently most of them were held in Osaka.” Atsumu aggressively runs his palms through his hair—he’s sick of the excuses. He’s sick of constantly getting his hopes up then being disappointed in the end. “I don’t even see you that much anymore, except at night when you’re already asleep.”

Kiyoomi straightens his back and regards Atsumu’s dirty shoes. “Tsum, hey. I’m sorry, you know I’ve been too busy these days trying to finish my second book. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” Kiyoomi tries to hold his hand, but Atsumu dodges it. Atsumu wants to laugh and proceeds to clench his fists. He’s heard this too many times before that it relatively feels like a routine.

“Will you really? Because we’ve been telling that to each other, but I don’t think any of us is keeping our word.” Atsumu then realizes that he’s been hiding this pent-up anger for so long, and he just doesn’t care what comes out of his mouth at this moment.

Silence. Atsumu crosses his arms and stares at him, expecting another excuse from Kiyoomi, but he is doing a great job of avoiding his eyes and keeping silent. 

Atsumu purses his lips, feeling his chest tighten by the second. He just wants this unpleasant feeling to end already. “I knew it. I knew this was going to happen.” 

Kiyoomi scowls and pulls his face into an ugly grimace. “What? What do you mean?”

“This! Us! Drifting apart!” Atsumu gestures between the two of them, forcing his voice to be steady. At that, Kiyoomi finally looks at him, a blank expression on his face. “I knew you’d eventually stop loving me. Once you quit.” It hurt him to say it, but it was the truth he was having a hard time to accept for the past few months. _Was I ever enough, Kiyoomi?_

“What? No! I do love you. Atsumu, please, just listen—” Kiyoomi stands up and tries to hold his hand again, but Atsumu just hugs himself to prevent Kiyoomi from touching him.

“You can stop lying, Omi.” Atsumu’s voice finally breaks at his name. When Kiyoomi looks at him now, Atsumu recognizes the same thing he noticed before, during Omi’s last games. The emptiness. He then senses wetness on his face—all the tears he’s been holding back are now coursing down his cheeks. “Please, just stop. I-I don’t think I can do this anymore. I want to break up.”

“You don’t mean that. Take it back,” Kiyoomi implores, his eyes glistening. 

Atsumu sniffles before letting out a bitter laugh. Kiyoomi is crying now, too. _Why is he even crying, when it’s clearly his fault we’re like this?_ “I do. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.” 

“Tsum, please. I can make—”

“You what, Omi?” Atsumu almost screams, his eyes sparking fire and nostrils flaring. “You can make it up to me? This again? Aren’t you tired?” Kiyoomi looks defeated, and Atsumu discerns that Kiyoomi is not even willing to fight for him. For them. It’s funny how Kiyoomi didn’t even physically hurt him, but he could feel the pain from his heart inching all over his body. 

“I’m sorry, Tsum.”

“I’m sorry, too, Omi. I still do love you, but it’s just not enough for me to stay.” Atsumu wipes his tears with his sleeve, swallowing down another sob. His nose starts to burn and his throat feels tight. He takes one last look around the room, at the couch they bought for 50% off, at their shared plant by the window, at the numerous pictures of them displayed on the refrigerator, at the paint chipping away by the bedroom door. Anywhere but at Kiyoomi.

“Can I at least touch you, one last time?”

It takes a full minute before Atsumu gives in. “Fine.” Atsumu’s heart was quiet, but it felt like a large rock was weighing on top of it that he almost couldn’t breathe. Kiyoomi shifts closer to him and wraps his arms around Atsumu, with Atsumu mirroring Kiyoomi’s movements. Atsumu tries to memorize this feeling and buries it deep in his mind. They stay like that for a while before finally letting go. “I’ll come back tomorrow to get my stuff. I’ll be staying at Osamu’s tonight.” 

“Atsumu…”

Atsumu just looks at him sadly, feeling another wave of tears starting to build behind his eyes. “Thank you, Kiyoomi. For everything. Maybe our relationship did just revolve around volleyball,” Atsumu proclaims, before leaving the apartment. 

* * *

Atsumu overlooks the crowd below him. He’s standing on the balcony of Bokuto’s house, celebrating the outside hitter’s 30th birthday. The whole team and their families are all here, and he finds his twin brother chatting about and handing a drink to Akaashi by the gazebo.

An indie pop song about long-lasting love is playing in the background, which Atsumu finds weird because it didn’t fit the birthday party vibe. 

“Miya.” Atsumu feels like a bucket of ice was dumped over him. Two years. He hasn’t heard that voice in two years.

Atsumu turns around and sees him. His hair is shorter and his body leaner, and the bags under his eyes are more prominent since the last time Atsumu saw him. He’s known Kiyoomi for practically half of his life, but right now, he’s having a hard time reading the look on his face. “Omi-kun,” he greets with a small smile. “Funny seeing you here. At a party. Of all places.” Atsumu clears his throat. The “ _I missed you”_ goes unsaid.

“What, you’re not even excited to see me?” he jokes. “No, ‘Omi-Omi!’” Kiyoomi tries mimicking Atsumu’s voice with a pout but fails horribly.

Atsumu cracks up. “Are you trying to joke right now, Omi?” 

“Keyword: trying.” Kiyoomi smiles back at him, and they spend the whole night catching up. Atsumu tells him of more matches, of how he’s thinking about joining a foreign league, of how Osamu has expanded his restaurant business overseas. Kiyoomi talks about how his most recent publication is the best-selling poetry book this year, about how he’s finally gotten himself a dog, about how he’s playing casual volleyball matches in his neighborhood every other weekend.

For the longest time, Atsumu has never felt so relieved. Breaking up with Kiyoomi eventually took a toll on him that he had to pay his psychiatrist a few visits. Osamu helped a bit, and his team as well, but he was never completely okay.

A couple of hours later, Kiyoomi receives a call. When Atsumu sees the contact name, his body goes stiff. He looks more sharply at Kiyoomi’s phone again, trying to see if he read it right, not caring if Kiyoomi found him weird doing so. 

_Rintarou._

“I’m sorry, Atsumu, but I have to take this,” Kiyoomi excuses himself and heads farther into the balcony where it’s quieter.

Atsumu doesn’t know what to think. When his brain finally starts working again, his first thought was, “ _Since when were they friends?”_ Admittedly, he never felt the need to tell Kiyoomi about how he confessed to Suna back then, because Suna never really kept in touch with him nor his brother after high school. He’s still trying to connect the dots when Kiyoomi comes back from his call.

“Sorry about that.” Kiyoomi mumbles, looking apologetic.

Atsumu glances at the phone in Kiyoomi’s hand before blurting out the question. “So how do you know Suna?”

“Suna is… my boyfriend. You two went to the same high school, right?” _Ah. Boyfriend._

“Yeah, and he plays for the EJP Raijin. Of course.” Atsumu ruefully smiles to himself. He thinks fate is playing a game with him, how Kiyoomi found him that night when they perfectly managed to avoid one another for two whole years. It was so cruel of fate to give him an ounce of hope for a second chance. 

How naïve of him. This is it—the closure he’s been waiting for—the closure he needs to finally move on and be fine. After saying their goodbyes that night, Atsumu couldn’t help but shed his last tears for Kiyoomi—for what they used to be. 

_I’ll be okay._

**Author's Note:**

> i love u atsumu :(
> 
> thank you for reading!!! kudos/comments are greatly appreciated <3
> 
> the song playing in the last scene is maybe the night by ben&ben :D


End file.
